


Timelines

by FelidArachnid



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Male-Female Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-06-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 13:49:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7317718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FelidArachnid/pseuds/FelidArachnid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the events of the "Alive" short. Tracer is struggling to come to terms with everything - but Winston is always there to back her up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timelines

Winston liked to think of himself as a good friend; it was a trait he valued in himself, and he hoped others valued in him. He had a rather fatherly approach to his teammates, and felt real concern for their troubles – which was why the expression on Tracer’s face was breaking his heart. 

He gazed at her over his shoulder, one hand resting on the ship’s computer, and heaved a heavy sigh. Tracer sat curled up on the other side of the ship, staring out the window at the pale dawn sky. Her face had a pale, drawn look that spoke of many sleepless nights, and her fingers were twisting restlessly around a battered packet of chewing gum. She had said very little during the flight and despite her attempts at a wobbly smile when spoken to, Winston knew the girl’s mind was in turmoil. 

Turning away from the computer, he heaved his substantial weight across the floor of the ship and settled himself on the floor next to her window seat. She shifted slightly and smiled unconvincingly at him. “Alright, love?”

Winston pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and looked severely down at her. “I should be asking you that.”

“Hey!” She drew her knees up to her chest and clasped her arms around them, her smile widening. “I’m fine! Really! Just a bit tired, is all.”

“Lena, I understand if you don’t want to talk, but – ” Winston folded his enormous hands in his lap. “You can’t… keep blaming yourself for what – what happened to Mondatta.” 

Tracer stiffened, and he wondered if he dared continue. 

There was a silence, broken only by the loud throbbing hum of the ship’s engines, and the occasional distant murmur from the cockpit. Tracer stared stubbornly out the window, her smile replaced with a stony expression that could have meant anything. 

Just as Winston was going to awkwardly excuse himself, she clenched her knees tighter and burst out, “It’s just…I was _there_ , Winston.” She pressed her trembling lips into a hard, miserable line. “I thought I could help. I – I did _everything_ I could. I – I…” Unable to contain it any longer, her eyes welled up with hot tears that spilled onto her pale cheeks. 

“Hey…hey.” Winston reached a hand out and pulled her against him. She was so small he could press her into his chest with one enormous palm, and she curled into him, sniffing quietly. 

“It was my fault,” she said in an altered voice, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. Winston pulled her away and glared down at her. “Don’t say that.”

“Don’t give me that!” She was teary eyed but red-faced and indignant now, no longer caring about the tears streaming down her face. “You weren’t there! I blinked – I – I blinked at the wrong time, he died because of _me_ …b-because of – this…” Her hand drifted to the chronal accelerator at her chest and Winston saw her jaw tighten.

Her shoulders collapsed and she moved away from him to lean against the window again. “I – I’m sorry, Winston. I didn’t mean – I’m – I meant me. Not the accelerator.”

He waited and then cautiously put a hand out. He was far too big to do much more than give a gentle shoulder tap with two fingers, but it felt better than just sitting there. “I know, Lena.”

“It’s just…” Her fist clenched around the gum packet. “I thought I had it under control. Proper, like.”

“You do,” insisted Winston. “Lena, Mondatta didn’t die because you lost control. He died at the hands of a dangerous and skilled murderer.”

Tracer made a small noise of disbelief. 

“It’s true!” Winston insisted fiercely, giving her a gentle shake. “You were doing the job of ten men. No one blames you for Mondatta’s death.”

Her lip trembled again and she bit it angrily. “It’s just…I should have done more.”

“I know you feel that way,” said Winston gently. “But you did all you could.”

She heaved a sigh that seemed several sizes too big for her, and rested her small pointed chin on her knees. “And it feels wrong. Flying out here, I mean.” She glanced at him again, and he could see the grief in her eyes. “I should be back _home_. In London. Helping sort things out.” She clenched her fists angrily, and he briefly wondered if there was even anything left of the crushed gum packet. “Catching up to her.”

By ‘her’ Winston assumed she meant the infamous assassin responsible for Mondatta’s death. “You must not let vengeance consume you, Lena,” he said sternly, the paternal tone creeping into his voice once more. 

“Yeah, yeah,” muttered Tracer mutinously. “It’s not like I’ll be able to do much stuck out in Gibraltar anyway.” She gave him a rue smile. “Sorry…sorry. I’m bein’ a right downer, aren’t I? I am looking forward to working out here – with you. I am.” She laid a hand on his forearm. “M’sorry.”

He sighed and removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I know your frustration. There are many causes I wish I could help right now, many places to be. But we can’t be in two places at once.”

“Well, maybe one day, eh?” She winked cheekily, slapping one hand on the chronal accelerator. Then her grin faded. “I’m just… _scared_ , Winston. Is that bad? When – when I blinked, I left a timeline where I would have been shot.”

Winston hadn’t thought of that. He replaced his glasses and regarded Tracer solemnly. 

Her hand drifted slowly over the accelerator, as if remembering the bullet’s impact. “It just – feels like he died instead – instead of me.” She tilted her face up to him and for a moment, she looked very young and vulnerable. “I dunno. I just never thought – about leaving timelines.”

“Me neither,” admitted Winston. “Lena…you’re very unique, I can’t pretend I know everything about your condition. But you’ve chosen your own – own timeline – ” He sketched finger quotation marks around the word. “ – so I guess that means you’re meant to be here.”

She frowned slightly, and he knew his attempt at comforting her made little sense. But then, with time travel, what did? 

“I’m sorry I can’t be of much more help,” said Winston sadly.

“No, no…” Slowly, she smiled at him once more, with a genuine, warm expression that brought a grin to his own face. “Thanks, love. You’re a real pal, you know that?”

“Any time. I’m glad I could help.” He settled himself more comfortably next to her and together they gazed out the window at the morning sun, Tracer leaning against his reassuring bulk. It was a glorious Mediterranean morning, and the sea far below glimmered like an expanse of diamond. As the shadow of their ship slid smoothly over the polished ocean surface, it disturbed a flock of seagulls, their tiny white forms flitting through the sky like petals in the breeze. 

“There could be worse places to be stationed,” Winston pointed out, and Tracer dug her elbow into him teasingly. “All _right_ , you big lug! I’ll stop sulking now.”

He beamed at her, glad that she was in a mood for gentle banter once more. That was the friend he knew and loved.

**Author's Note:**

> My first AO3 submission, and my first Overwatch fanfiction! I'm pretty rusty on my writing so this is just an attempt to warm up again - plus I really love Winston and Tracer's dynamic :)


End file.
